


Domestic

by missbeizy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, M/M, Poly!verse, RPF, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4538298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Italy and Chris going off to film Noel, Will and Darren play house for a weekend.  Domestic cuteness and sex.  Contains: some light daddy!kink and cross-dressing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic

Working significant time for each other into their schedules is almost impossible, especially after Glee, but two weeks after Darren and Mia come home from Italy—one week after Chris flies to England to begin production on the Noel Coward biopic—Mia calls Will.

"Take him," she says.  It's early afternoon on a Friday.  Will hears a guitar playing in the background. "For the love of god, take him.  We've been up each other's asses for six weeks and I think I am going to kill him." She huffs and laughs hysterically at the same time. "I love him, but I need me time."

Will is between projects and isn't joining Chris in London for another two weeks.  All he has to do is cancel a Saturday lunch date with a friend and his weekend is free and clear.  It's no hardship; he misses Darren (and Mia, of course, but he'll take whatever he can get when it comes to juggling a relationship with their lifestyles these days) and the house is too empty.

He knows it's going to be lovely when Darren shows up with a duffel bag, his guitar, and copious amounts of the godawful, cheap American beer that Will guiltily prefers.  He's dressed in ratty, skintight jeans, a T-shirt that hearkens back to his college days, and hipster glasses, his curls wild and a light beard grown in along his cheeks and jaw.

"Lord, are you moving in?" Will asks, teasing, as he takes Darren's bag.  Darren presses him back against the door, pushing it closed, and kisses him, spearing his mouth open and pinning their bodies together. It only takes a few kisses to take Will's breath away, literally and figuratively. He pulls back to pepper Darren's jaw and neck with gentler kisses. "Mm, you feel so good, sweetheart."

Darren's hands slide across his shoulders and then down his back to cup his ass. "Fuck, you too."

"Hungry?"

They eat Chinese takeout on the patio.  Darren talks in an endless stream about Italy and the other countries they visited before and after filming wrapped.  He's animated and tanned and boyish, and Will can't take his eyes off of him, can't bear to interrupt aside from asking questions that keep him going.  He loves Darren's enthusiasm for life.  He loves when Darren applies the depth and wit he has in spades to his own experiences.  

After Darren is talked out, they curl up together on a lounge chair, feeding each other pieces of broken up fortune cookie.

"'You will go on a long trip.'" Darren pauses and then says, in the Hedwig accent, "Late."

Will laughs. "Yeah."

Darren flutters his eyelashes, and tucks himself down into Will's embrace. "You love it."

"You know I do."                                                                      

"Mm, 'cause you're a good Daddy," Darren drawls.

Will makes a fist in Darren's curls.  It's warm but shady under the patio awning, and the food they ate is making him sleepy. They have all weekend to catch up; right now he's more than willing to give in to the drowsiness washing over them both.  They fall asleep tangled up together to the noise of the pool's filter running and Cooper scratching softly at the patio door.

 

*

 

Darren wakes up ready to take on the world, as he always does after a nap.  Will laughs as he chases Cooper around the house, then settles on the dining room floor to wrestle with him while Will heats up leftovers for dinner.

"We can walk him after we eat," Will says.

"I wanna like, jog." Darren shovels lo mein into his mouth. "Can we?"

"Sure."

Under an hour later they're dressed in basketball shorts and T-shirts, doing loops around the neighborhood with Cooper trotting happily between them.

"No fucking clue, man," Darren says, when Will asks him about the movie. "It was fun. There were some gorgeous, super talented people, but I gotta tell you, I was all about the location."

"Can't blame you." Will lifts his elbows and tries to keep up—he's no slouch, but Darren is in ridiculously good shape.

"We had a blast. It was definitely needed."

"You worked your ass off in New York."

"Hell yeah."

"I'm just sad we only got to see it once."

Darren laughs. "I'm surprised you managed to convince Chris to come out at all.  Kudos."

"We made it work." For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of their breathing and their sneakers hitting asphalt, and then Will adds dryly, "Never got to do it in your dressing room, though."

"Them shorts?"

"Oh my god.  You must have hated those things after a while."

"Nah.  It was all good."

Will waits half a block before confessing, "I have to be honest.  It wasn't the shorts.  Not really."

"Yeah?"

"It was that damned black dress."

"The slip?"

"With the cropped wig and the—boob shapes and your legs and the way you moved, shit."

Darren sidesteps into Will, jostling him and giving him a flirtatious once over at the same time. "You may have drunk texted me about this before you saw the show. Remember?"

"Damn.  I did, didn't I?  I saw like—it was a gif on the Internet or something."

"Not surprised."

"Oh man. Yeah.  That did it for me and then some."

Darren sways his hips into Will's side without breaking stride. "Good to know." He has a look on his face that indicates he knows something Will doesn't, but Will chooses not to pry.

They're tapped out by the time they get home.  Even Cooper is drained—after drinking some water he does a few turns and then collapses onto his doggy bed in the living room, letting out a whine and closing his eyes. Will and Darren split a smoothie in the kitchen, and before the bottle even has a chance to settle in the recycling bin Darren is nosing at the back of Will's neck in front of the sink.

"God, you smell good," Darren says.

"I smell gross. Ugh.  Let me shower before you start—"

"Shut up." Darren splays his hands over Will's belly and then pushes his fingers on both sides past the waistband of his shorts. "You're fine." Darren strokes Will's hips and upper thighs, thumbs his twitching cock, and rubs up against his ass. "Fuck.  So hot."

They're both a little sharp-smelling, but Will can't suppress the shiver of lust that goes through him at the grind of Darren's tight, compact body against his.  He tugs Darren's hand against his dick and presses, arching forward when it closes in a fist.  

"Lonely couple of weeks, huh?" Darren strokes his cock as it stiffens. "Nobody here to take care of this?" He rubs his own dick against Will's ass. "Or this?"

Will exhales a noise. His pelvis churns. "Dare—"

Darren edges Will's shorts down.  They puddle around his ankles. "Hold onto the sink."

"What—" Darren sinks to his knees, kissing a path down Will's spine that ends with a smacking kiss to his exposed sacrum. "Oh my god.  I'm filthy."

And turned on beyond belief. This is something Chris would never do—when he's in the mood, he can take Will apart doing this as easily as a professional, but he only does it under certain circumstances, and Will post-work out is not one of those circumstances.  

Darren thumbs his cheeks apart, kissing open-mouthed down the inside of his left cheek.  His fingertips precede his lips, fluttering and touching as if to prepare Will for what he's going to do, but when the tease begins to bore him he digs in, spreading Will wide and nosing at his crack.

Will moans, bends over the sink and grips its far edge.  His body is buzzing—on top of the excitement of Darren's touch, it's been two very long weeks.  He's starving for this.  He spreads his legs and bends his head into the bowl of the sink, his hesitation unraveling as Darren hungrily licks up the crack of his ass and then sucks over his hole, making a soft, eager noise.

"Fuck," Will hisses.  He can feel sweat and spit grow tacky on his skin as Darren moves from spot to spot, biting and kissing.

Darren exhales noisily. "Fuck yeah, move that ass." He seals his mouth over Will's hole and laps at it, again and again, while digging his jaw in at the same time, providing both wet friction and pressure.  Will fucks himself against Darren's tongue until it edges in.  It doesn't go far, but Will chases it, rocking into every lick, Darren's fingers spreading him wide open.  He reaches down and begins jerking himself off. "Don't come." Darren gently bites his right cheek. "Want to blow you."

"Then stop, because that feels too good."

Darren suckles Will's rim, then circles it with the tip of his tongue. "I have faith in your stamina."

"Shit."

"Want a finger?" Darren drags a spit-soaked digit over his hole.

"I'll come too fast."

"So come.  Turn around, though.  Want your dick in my mouth."

Spit makes about three-quarters of a finger doable with little to no discomfort.  Will spreads his thighs and bends his back and lets Darren go at him, crooking his finger inside and wrapping his plump lips around Will's cock.

"Oh my god," Will groans, seeing white behind his eyelids. "Oh fuck, baby."

Darren sucks him, wetter and deeper with every pass.  Moist, hollow smacking noises echo off of the ceiling, and when he pulls off to remark, "Been a while.  Mm, stretch my mouth with your big cock," Will whines and grabs his hair and begins carefully fucking toward the back of his throat.  His mouth is warm and snug, and it isn't long before Will is consciously holding off, feeling the tell-tale cramp in his balls and at the base of his cock.  Darren bobs deep and then uses the spit he leaves behind to jack the bottom half of Will's cock. "Shoot in my mouth.  Come on, Daddy."

Darren's swollen, red-pink lips sliding up and down the shaft of his cock, tongue lapping out of sight, is too perfect.  Will comes so hard his toes curl, twisting the rug beneath his feet.  His fingers abandon the death grip they have on Darren's hair gradually.  He pets the spot in silent apology, trembling as the orgasm fizzles out along his extremities.  Darren's shining mouth works around swallowing his come, but misses the bit at the corner of his mouth.  Will thumbs it away.

Darren's cock is tenting his shorts.  Will reaches down to stroke it through the material.

"That's for me, right?" he asks.

"Couch or bed?" Darren stands, trailing his hands over Will's wide chest and broad shoulders.

"Couch." They keep a bottle of lubricant in a drawer under the coffee table, and Will loves getting fucked over the arm of the couch.  It's the perfect height and angle.

He lets Cooper out into the backyard, closes the door, and Darren pounces, squeezing his ass and walking them backwards into the living room.  Breathing rapidly, Will strips off Darren's T-shirt and then his own, grips Darren's cock, and stumbles into the couch.  He's burning up and still muscle-shaky from his orgasm, and fuck if his ass isn't  _desperate_  for something in it right now.  He touches Darren quickly, obsessively—his body is deliciously lean.  His boyish curls and sweet smile combined with the rock-hard angles of his chest, belly, waist, and thighs make Will weak.

"Want you to fuck me." He tugs Darren's shorts down, and has to swallow a mouthful of saliva at the sight of Darren's cock springing free.

Darren puts one hand between his shoulder blades to guide him over the arm of the couch, then relocates said hand to the small of his back to get him to tip his ass up.  Even though they're rushing, Darren makes him feel taken care of—gentle touches and kisses against the nape of his neck and how careful he is with the lubricant, slicking Will's hole and his own cock without making a mess because he knows how Chris would feel about that.  And he's so strong now, so solid—he easily manipulates Will and pins him down right where he wants him.

"So fucking gorgeous," Darren whispers, rubbing the head of his cock up and down Will's crack. "Oh fuck you're gonna be so tight, already clenching up for me."

Will situates his sensitive cock comfortably against the couch before rolling his ass back into Darren. All it takes is one searching hand and Darren is curling his own over Will's ass, along his lower back and around his waist, holding him closer, murmuring reassuring noises as he begins grinding against Will's crack, teasing him with the gyration of his hips.

"Fuck," Will gasps, spreading his legs. "Fuck, fuck, come on."

"Missed you. Fuck, missed you so much, wanna feel you so bad."

Over his shoulder, Will watches Darren's stomach and chest and shoulders and biceps bunch up, muscle and sweat and a tinge of flush.  He's so fucking  _hot_ , and the fat column of his dick the perfect tease.

Darren's fingers hook on his hips and tug. "Yeah." He guides his cock with one hand. "Yeah, open up.  Yeah, fuck, let me see that hole get ready for me."

He's so shameless, so dirty, and he plays Will as well as any instrument.  He traces Will's hole with the head of his cock, getting it wet and making it wink.  When Will can't take it anymore he rocks back, working his ass in circles until the head catches and slides in.

"Shit, fuck. Yeah.   _Fuck_." Darren remains still for as long as it takes Will to impale himself, and then he grinds forward, his fingernails digging into the soft underside of Will's belly. "Fuck!"

Will puts his hands on the couch cushion below, bends down as far as he can, and lets Darren know he's okay with an encouraging noise.  After that it's only a matter of letting Darren's strength and energy take over—he fucks Will rough and dirty, the noise of their bodies colliding snapping like whip cracks in the air around them.  Will is sure Darren is about to come on three separate occasions but he doesn't, just slows down—breathing heavily, chest heaving, neck gleaming with sweat—and then begins again.

They switch to the other arm of the couch when Will's legs begin to cramp and need a break, but Darren doesn't let the pause last.  Will is quickly bent over again, full again, and it feels so good.

They're dripping with more sweat than their jog created.  Will is just about tapped out, his dick is leaving smears on the couch fabric despite only being half-hard, and he wants to feel Darren come.  So he tightens up by degrees until the clench is borderline uncomfortable, and finally Darren begins to falter.

He laughs, slowly edging out and back in, making Will feel the drag. "Done already?"

"Save the old man jokes for when your dick isn't in my ass."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Darren."

"Picky, picky." He pulls out and pushes the shaft of his cock up between Will's sticky, hairy cheeks. "Mm, can I come on you?" Will feels the drag of his knuckles as he touches himself.

"Yeah, yeah."

It's unbearably hot, standing there with his ass in the air, spread wide, wet and open while Darren jerks off, breathing louder and faster as he gets closer.  Will's cock throbs and then tries to harden again when Darren curses, grunts, and comes all over his back, ass, and hole, jacking his cock frantically.

"Oh  _fuck_  yes," Darren rasps, tapping his twitching dick against Will's hole before using the head to push a few wayward strands of come inside of him. "Fuck."

"Shower.   _Shower_. My kingdom for a shower."

"And if you're nice I'll get some applesauce for you before bed, Daddy."

After wiping off the worst of the mess with a tissue, Will stands—refuses to acknowledge the slight twinge in his knees that didn't exist until very recently—grabs Darren's ass, swats it, and turns him in the direction of the stairs. "You're lucky I missed you so much.  Ass."

"Sass."

"Ass and sass. Sass and ass.  Is that going to be the subtitle of your autobiography?" They walk upstairs, Will's hands around Darren's waist.

"Are you kidding me?" Darren asks. "Chris has that shit on lock.  He'd kill me if I tried to take it."

"Can't argue with that."

With food, exercise, and orgasms enjoyed, they're putty in the shower, taking turns under the spray and only making out once the work is done, slow kisses and manual exploration that lead to racing hearts, warm skin, and adoring smiles.  Will lets Darren tuck in close against his neck.

"Mm, love you," he drawls, the twang creeping up because he's not paying attention.

"Back at ya.  This is so nice." Darren stands up straight. "Shit, Cooper's still outside, though."

"Yeah, I should go take care of him.  Pick out a movie or something.  And we can smoke?"

"Awesome." Darren gives him one last, lingering kiss before they turn off the shower.

Will can't think of anything he'd rather do this evening—he only wishes Chris and Mia were here to enjoy it with them.

 

*

 

They fall asleep again toward the end of the movie, Darren curled up against Will's chest with his head tucked beneath Will's chin.  Will gets up reluctantly some time later to take care of Brian and Cooper, and uses the break to text Chris, as well.  He turns the dishwasher on before waking Darren and leading him upstairs, where Darren changes into a pair of clean briefs and puts his glasses on the nightstand, making adorable, sleepy grabby hands when Will doesn't join him fast enough.  Will slides beneath the covers and kisses him until he falls asleep.

The next morning, Will wakes up alone.  He can hear Darren singing downstairs.  He smiles to himself as he brushes his teeth and texts Chris again.  The time zone difference is making it hard to communicate with regularity, but Chris seems to want space to settle in by himself—he's sliding into that "go time" project mode Will has become all too familiar with—so they've kept the Skyping to a minimum.

Will puts on a T-shirt and goes downstairs.  Darren must have taken care of Cooper, because he doesn't want food or to go out to pee, so Will just pets him for a few minutes before he goes into the kitchen.

Darren's curls are everywhere and he's shaking his ass to the music in his head.  He's singing something Top 40 that Will has never heard. He's wearing the black briefs he put on last night and—a frilly pink apron Chris bought Will a year ago as a gag gift when he made a joke about becoming a kept man.

"Good morning," Will says.  This is more or less all he's got when faced with Darren dancing in his kitchen, all loose-hipped and ass-popping in front of the toaster.

Darren flails, dropping a toasted waffle onto a plate. "I did it!" He smiles. "Hey, you." He shuffles over, humming, his hips swaying and his fingertips dancing across Will's chest.  He kisses Will on the lips. "I found juice, too." He winks, hooks a finger on the collar of Will's T-shirt, and walks him across the room.

"You're in a mood," Will says.

"Mm, maybe."

Will's dimples deepen. "I like it.  Hey—we're gonna be living off of cereal and takeout if we don't go shopping soon. Feel up to venturing out?"

"We'll burn the house down." Darren eyes the half-scorched waffle that is proof none of them are culinary gurus.

"I can barbeque."

"...sorry, how is that going to keep us from burning the house down?"

"No, really, I'm good at it!"

"All right, all right. Let's do it, Bobby Flay."

Darren changes into a tiny T-shirt, a pair of pink board shorts, and flip-flops.  Will eyes the footwear as they enter the grocery store and make a beeline for the meat counter.

"Are those Mia's?" he asks.

Darren skips. "Maybe. Ooh, they have the kind where all the work is already done!"

They buy a large amount of marinated meat, as well as burgers, hot dogs, and pre-cut vegetables. Darren brought plenty of alcohol but little else, so they pick up snacks, sides, and dessert, as well.  

It's fun to shop with Darren—he has the energy level of a toddler but the indulgent, greedy focus of a well-off adult shopper.  He spends way too much money on them.  Will is sort of used to that, though, living with Chris.  But Darren is also more relaxed in public than Chris tends to be, and Will can nuzzle into him and link their arms and kiss the back of his neck and holds doors for him and love the swishy persona he's wearing today without constantly monitoring the behavior of strangers.

They spend most of the afternoon prepping the barbeque.  Darren puts the frilly apron back on and helps Will sort out what they'll freeze, refrigerate, or eat tonight.  They separate out sane portions of sides and veggies.  Darren swats Will away from the churros half a dozen times.  Once everything is ready and the grill is heating up, they take Cooper for a walk, even daring to hold hands on the more abandoned, private blocks.  It feels wonderful and freeing.

Back home, they load up the grill with a variety of things—mostly meat that will take longer to cook before they switch to hamburgers and hot dogs—and then turn on the outdoor speakers for music.  Will just wants some background noise, but ends up tugging Darren in by his little waist into a silly dance.  Will has no more rhythm than Chris, but years of church event socializing taught him how to passably slow dance, at least.

"Hello," Darren says, breathy and smiling.

Will kisses him.  He smells like charcoal and tastes like the salsa they've been grazing on since they got home. "Hi." He kisses Darren again, bending him back over his arm a little. "You're gorgeous." He tucks a curl behind Darren's ear, and is happy when that earns him a blush. Genuine compliments and casual intimacy undo Darren in ways that sex often doesn't, and Will has become adept at landing them.

Darren's body gives over to his in short order, the music working at undoing him as much as Will's hands sliding up and down his back and into his hair are.  They sway together until the smell of cooking meat reminds them they were in the middle of something, but Will leaves only for as long as it takes to flip everything, and then pulls Darren back against him—this time with Darren's back to his front.

He nips Darren's earlobe. "After this I am totally switching to hip hop.  One does not eat charred meat to instrumental mood music."

"Potentially true." Darren shifts against him, all shoulder blades and the high swell of his perfect ass. "Just wanted to get close to you.  We can rap all night if you want."

They overcook some of the meat (much to Will's chagrin), but there's more than enough properly cooked food to consume.  Chris would kill them if he knew how much they let slip under the table for Cooper and Brian, who they allowed out onto the patio once the grill was off.  They listen to hip hop and do indeed rap over potato salad and beer and steak, playing with the furbabies in between the meal and dessert.  Darren polishes off a brownie sundae and Will eats half a bag of churros with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce.

When it begins to get dark, Darren takes out his guitar and plays for them, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs and a smile.  Will watches him, enthralled and smitten.

He starts to talk about music—something about a tune he overheard in a village in Germany—and Will's heart aches and overflows.  He loves seeing this side of Darren, which often hides around Chris—because Chris can be snarky and dismissive—and even Mia—because she's heard it all and also because Darren is often love-struck and overwhelmed around her.  But Will is very much an open-minded receiver—he's a listener and a lover.  He knows he's easy to be with.

This doesn't stop him from kissing Darren mid-sentence and mid-chord, however.

"Okay." Darren laughs. "Was that a 'please stop, my ears are bleeding' kiss or a 'you are a rock god, please sign my chest' kiss?”

Will kisses him again. "Sorry.  You're just so cute when you get going."

Around them, evening is falling, cool and sweet.  The noise of insects twines with the fading hum of Darren's guitar strings.  Will exhales into the scruffy spot on Darren's jaw just beside his ear.

"Can you finish cleaning up?" Darren asks, with a kiss to Will's neck. "I need to take some calls.  My phone has been blowing up."

"Oh, shit, sure, yeah. Sorry.  I forget how in demand y'all are sometimes."

"No prob.  You're a darling.  Thank you."

Most of the cleaning is already done—Will just has to load the dishwasher and put away the leftovers. He takes Cooper out one last time, changes Brian's water, talks to Suzie and then his mom each for a few minutes, and finally washes up in the downstairs bathroom.  He can't hear Darren talking upstairs, and it's been at least an hour, so he walks down the bedroom hallway.  He knocks before he enters the guest room.

"I'm good," Darren calls, from the en-suite bathroom.

"Hey, I'm just gonna change the sheets," he says. "Do you care—"

Darren steps out of the bathroom wearing a black slip that's almost an exact replica of the one he wore on stage as Hedwig, fishnet stockings, a short blond wig, and the faintest application of mascara and red lipstick.  He looks up at Will coyly from underneath his eyelashes.

"—about thread count." Will blinks. "Uh.  So. Those weren't phone calls, then?" The question dries up in his mouth as Darren saunters over, fully in character, hips swaying, shoulders back, head tilted, spine straight, and one foot landing neatly in front of the other.

"C'mere, Daddy," he croons, soft-pitched and sweet.  He reels Will in by the string on his shorts.

"Oh, god." He even smells different, like he put something floral on—perfume, lotion?  Will moves in to kiss him and he stops Will halfway, smiles, and flutters his eyelashes over dark hazel.

"I want to see it all over your cock after I suck you." Darren walks Will backwards to the edge of the bed. "Can't do that if you kiss it off now, darling."

Will sits without thinking about it, his heart racing.  He can't reconcile the feminine creature slinking into his lap with Darren, who is about as boyish as you can get, and the contrast is one of the hottest and most confusing things he's ever experienced.

Darren straddles his thighs and sits down, hiking the slip up as he goes.  Will follows the retreat with his hands, stroking the rough weave up Darren's thick thighs.

"God, baby, you're beautiful," he whispers.

Darren grinds down into his lap, red-cheeked and breathing faster.  He's hard underneath the slip, enough so that Will can see his erection when he strains and shifts.  Will bites his lip.

"Can I suck you now?" Darren asks, rubbing down harder.

"Yeah, yeah, please." Will scrambles to lie down, angling himself across the bed as Darren crawls backward toward his knees, taking his shorts off.  Will removes his own T-shirt, quickly so he doesn't have to look away from Darren for too long.  Darren is sinfully gorgeous in that slip, with the soft, pale strands of the wig fluttering up around his ears and neck.  The slip must have a padded bra inside of it, because there is the illusion of small breasts, as well.  Will wants to touch them but feels silly, until Darren takes his hands and puts them there.

"I'm trying to turn you on.  Do whatever you want." He winks.

"S-shit," Will rasps, squeezing the soft swells.  

The slip rides up around Darren's ass and thighs as he scoots down the bed to bury his face in Will's groin. "Mm, you smell like char and sweat." He mouths over Will's stiffening cock. "Fuck, want this." He looks up at Will as he begins to lick and nibble, his eyes rimmed with liner and that sinful red mouth puckering up.  There are already streaks of it all over Will's cock and thighs.

And then Darren takes him in and begins to bob, and he wonders where they put that cock ring, because this isn't going to last and he wants more—that much becomes abundantly and immediately clear.

"Fuck." He gently cups the strands of the wig in his palms, holding on as Darren's fat, red mouth bounces up and down on his dick.  Every now and then Darren pauses to lick the shaft or head, and once ducks down to take Will's balls into his mouth, but he always goes back to sucking, fierce and focused and absolutely perfect.  It's too intense.  Will tugs on the wig, stopping him mid-bob. "Too close."

Darren smiles. "Whatever you want." His voice is raspy from the blowjob.

"Get on your hands and knees," Will says.

He's not sure what he's going to do when he gets up behind Darren, but he ends up spending a fair amount of time touching him through the slip, stroking his wide, strong shoulders and hard biceps before moving down his back to that barely-there waist, tugging the slinky black fabric tight so he can see every muscle and curve.  Only then does he push the slip up, letting it spill over Darren's back as his gorgeous ass rises up.

"Fuck, honey," Will says. "Fuck, just like that.  Let me see." Darren is naked under the fishnets.  Will's hands spread over his cheeks, as eager to devour as his eyes are.  Before he can think twice about it, he's asking in a broken rasp, "Can I rip them?"

Darren's body convulses under his.  He moans a moment later. "Oh my god.  Oh my god, yeah."

Heart roaring in his ears, Will hooks his fingers between the thread and pulls, left to right, directly over the crack of Darren's ass.  It takes more effort than he thought it would, but once he makes the first tear it happens quickly, the noise of the stockings being ripped apart filling the room.  Darren jerks, panting as the fabric digs into his skin and then falls away in haphazard pieces and patterns.

Darren must have showered and shaved, too, because he's smooth and clean-smelling.  Will's hands shake and his mouth waters and before he can even say what he wants to say he's bending low to lick up Darren's crack.

"Oh, fuck," Darren gasps. "Oh, fuck, oh fuck, yes,  _fuck_."

Will pushes his cheeks up and apart, down and apart, working them around his own face and mouth in an obsessive frenzy, licking and kissing until Darren's hole begins to flutter against the tip of his tongue.  He doesn't want to stop—it's too good, all that soft skin, the way Darren's body bends into him, the noises he's making, how he's fisting the blankets and spreading his legs.

Will continues to rip at the fishnets until they're a mess around Darren's waist and knees, gripping the destroyed garment and using it to leverage himself as he eats, open-mouthed, at Darren's hole, licking inside with his tongue as far as he can go, for as long as he can go.

Eventually the muscles in his jaw and neck protest—he slows down, licks a path to Darren's balls and suckles at them through the torn fishnets until Darren's back arches.

"Fuck, just fuck me," he whines. "Fuck me.   _Fuck_  me."

But Will continues to take his time, kissing up and down and across the planes and curves of Darren's legs, inside of his thighs and behind his knees and over the swell of his ass cheeks. His cock is tenting the slip where the fishnets have ridden up around his hips.  Will reaches around to squeeze it.

"If you touch my dick I'm gonna come," Darren blurts, all on one breath.

"You're gonna come," Will says. "Just not like that." He reaches for the lubricant bottle beside his leg and coats his cock.  When Darren tries to push up or back or reach for him, he presses him back down into the mattress, finding it easy to push him forward and hold him down. He's small, but it's easy because he  _obeys_ —he responds to Will's rebuffs as if he craves them.

The wig is now a mess of yellow strands sticking up every which way.  Will pushes between Darren's shoulder blades so that his cheek hits the bed and his ass rises even higher.

"D-Daddy," Darren moans, much more brokenly than before.  There isn't a hint of teasing in the word.

Will slides into him slowly, almost too slowly—Darren is squirming by the time he's half of the way, whimpering and breathing unevenly, his empty hands searching up underneath the pillows.  Will bends over his back, pins his wrists to the bed, and grinds the rest of the way into his ass.

"Fuck yeah, oh  _fuck_  please, fuck me," Darren moans.

Will bites the back of his neck, and whispers near his ear, "Behave, baby." He draws back and then slams forward, making Darren's body scoot up the bed and tearing a moan from his throat.  Darren goes from shock to acceptance so fast it makes Will's head spin—one moment he's chorded up muscle from neck to knee and the next he's slack and easy on his shoulders and knees, his ass snugging up around Will's dick like a welcoming handshake.  Will grabs the wig at the back where it's secured. "Mm, good girl."

Darren moans. "F-fuck."

Will settles into a steady pace, but all of his plans to fuck Darren as long as he can unravel when Darren twists a certain way, presses his face into his own bulging bicep—now smeared with lipstick—and twitches, full-bodied and all at once.

"Baby?"

"Oh my fucking god I'm gonna come," Darren gasps.

"Yeah?"

"Keep doing that. Keep doing that.  Oh, fuck.  I'm gonna come on your cock, fuck, fuck me." That last vowel is drawn out as Darren's orgasm crests.  He bucks, and Will strokes the fabric of the slip below his belly just to feel the ropes of come as they puddle and leak through.

Will shakes with surprise—he's too close to the edge to do or say anything appropriate—he just sort of squeaks and comes in Darren's ass, holding onto his fishnet tatter-covered cheeks with both hands.

"Holy shit," Darren says.

Will collapses on his back, mouthing the dip between his shoulder blades where the slip is still stretched and clinging. "Oh my god.  That was ridiculous."

"I'm fucking pulsing, Jesus fucking Christ."

They lie there in sweaty, panting quiet until Will needs to move.  He edges out carefully, shivering when the air hits his sticky cock, then lies down on his side, pulling Darren with him.  He spoons up close to Darren's back.

"Mm," he hums, rubbing the black fabric back down Darren's thighs. "Love you all messy and full of me."

"Fuck, that was perfect."

"You're sneaky. So unfair, springing that on me."

He can feel Darren's smile. "Worked out."

"Understatement."

"I'll just let you sleep on the question of what else I've got in my little bag o' tricks."

Will laughs.  He has no issue with that.


End file.
